Guess What?

I’m currently in bed.

Body covered in coconut oil, toes dipped in avocado oil.

2021 has delivered so much already!

I’m forever thankful.

I feel my beautiful mind expanding.

I’m walking through my destiny.

The next stage is a tough one.

I’ll embrace it. I love my creative nature.

Guess what?

I’m currently in bed.

Writers Life

I’m a writer that can’t write. Because when I write it ain’t right!

My grammar and punctuation suck and my verb tenses are fucked up.

They said, ‘Unique, you can’t write. Keep to a private diary.’

I replied, ‘shut the fuck up, using pieces like Clip, Bagel and Fuck!’

Hemingway.

I write anyway.

I state every day.

I care in many ways.

For those unbelievers, I’m an Atheist all day.

Laugh at me.

Curse down.

‘I don’t care’ – Foxy Brown

I could give a burning fuck if you rate me or not.

I’m a writer that can’t write.

I’m a Writer that will operate on you using only words.

Now count down from ten…nine…eight…

The Blame Game

At first, they blamed a group of people, because a video went viral and showed someone eating a bat.

Then they blamed a lab for allowing it to break free.

Then a small city was blamed and all the residents were labelled as people saw fit.

Later an entire country was blamed for it causing this.

They once ridiculed the health services and mocked cleaners, spat on bin men and stole from the doorsteps delivery drivers frequented.

Now they cheer them – they clap for our carers because they tell themselves that if I clap on a Thursday at 2000 GMT if I ever get COVID19 the NHS will save me.

Some blame the NHS for treating the sick, commenting, ‘You’re spreading COVID19, as you’re in contact with people who have it.’

Then they blame the government for suggesting we stay inside, stay safe and protect others, to keep everyone alive.

‘The Government have made the virus up!’  I heard a man state as I visited Tesco’s, ‘they wanna keep us quiet so that they can build more 5G towers! Fuck Trump!’

Then 5G towers were burnt to the core, apparently, they spread COVID19.

The blame was placed onto Corona beer, how unfortunate and unjust.

The blame shifted to the elderly, their immunity the lowest.

The blame was placed onto vegans and then taken away. The sales of oat milk shot up tenfold, what more could anyone say?

The blame was actioned on black people who resided in the country COVID19 was born. Videos circulated showing them being banned from the stores and locked out from their temporary homes.

The blame was sprinkled across wet markets over there and there and there. However, they continued the operate even though COVID19 had taken away many lives.

The blame sauntered to news reporters, medical staff, public transportation and lack of sanitation. #WashYourHands the main form of mass communication.

We are a world that enjoys pointing fingers, like the only kid that never stole a cookie from the jar. COVID19 is still present, yet we #Blame others and focus on who to troll next?

SOME PEOPLE SHOW NO SYMPTOMS OF HAVING CORONAVIRUS

We all lose out in the end, COVID19 does not discriminate.

The blame masturbated over social media and climaxed in the eyes of many…

Due Date

You should’ve been ready before the end of February, but I could not figure you out.

3000 words was all I needed to create you and express you out, in the form of ink and paper.

Fury, you’re driving me crazy.

Short stories take forever…

Crow Knows Virus

From the files of Crow

I sneezed on a train earlier today, and people looked on in horror and disgust.

I had sneezed into my tissue, my Kleenex tissue, my menthol double-layered Kleenex tissue.

I saw the Dark Lord appear.

He hopped from a fat person’s fat head to an anorexic’s knee and said, ‘Tell me, oh! Tell me, how does one identify the Coronavirus?’

I sneezed again and folded my tissue around my nose, for snot had peeked out and well, I suppose, nose-wiping is permitted.

The crowd ignored the Dark Lord. The flabby man raised his scarf over his mouth.

‘I’m told by God that the flu kills more people each year than Corona. But you filthy fuckers scorn Unique! Was a black man not lynched the other week? Is there not a war being fought overseas? Didn’t good old Mrs Smith from Chiswick die from heart failure?’ He tilts his little head to the side and sees a woman with red hair, squeeze hand gel onto her hands, rubbing them vigorously together and then rubbing it over her face.

Our Dark Lord Crow stops the train; a few wrists are broken in the process. The red-haired woman falls onto her back, Crow glides down and perches on her disinfected face. ‘So tell me,’ he whispers, ‘how does a mortal know the difference between the flu and its cousin the Coronavirus.’

The red-haired lady stutters, from her view, all she can see is the ass of a blackbird. ‘The news, news said, said that, that you can catch it from infected people.’

‘So you’re telling me Unique is bad bacteria?’

‘No, but, but she sneezed.’

‘So you’re telling me Unique has the coronavirus?’

But before she could answer our Dark Lord Crow, turned to face her and hurled out the most disgusting sneezed ever witness on board a train. It was a blend of the usual snot and mucus. But it also contained rotten bits of bagel, congealed blood and a small piece of a rats tail. Once he finished sneezing, Unique knelt and wiped his face with a baby wipe. Kissed his little head and said, ‘time to go home now.’

He glared at all the other passengers before infiltrating the announcement system, ‘CROW KNOWS VIRUS, CROW KNOWS VIRUS.’

They both returned home and enjoyed a discounted bottle of Corona beer.